


Pointless Eternity

by JensenAckles13



Series: One Part Insanity, Two Parts Chaos [1]
Category: Avengers, Frostiron - Fandom, Ironman, Marvel
Genre: AU, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Wolves, but not to Tony, loki is a little shit, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JensenAckles13/pseuds/JensenAckles13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony Edward Stark was the most brilliant creature Loki had had the pleasure of stumbling across.<br/>Suffice to say, he hadn’t been on a strictly casual stroll when he’d bumped into the mortal (or maybe not so mortal…?) inventor on the early morning of 1963.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pointless Eternity

_“If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.”  
-C. S. Lewis _

Anthony Edward Stark was the most brilliant creature Loki had had the pleasure of stumbling across.  
Suffice to say, he hadn’t been on a strictly casual stroll when he’d bumped into the mortal _(or maybe not so mortal…?)_ inventor on the early morning of 1963.  
Loki remembered it vividly, as he remembered everything; it had been a cold, December morning, no more than three days before Christmas. London always _had_ been a busy city, and Loki was sure that wouldn’t change any time soon. People bustled about, finishing up their Christmas shopping and for some, just starting.  
Loki had never understood it; celebrating a god’s son that didn’t exist, for his birthday on a day that wasn’t even his birthday, but he enjoyed the mortal holiday nonetheless.  
He loved the snow and the smell of dying leaves and the cool air that should’ve reddened the tip of his nose and his fingertips but didn’t because of his…more monstrous side.  
Children disappeared in doors as a particularly strong gust of wind picked up, snow flying off in every direction. Adult’s hurried inside the closest shops or their homes, shielding themselves from the frigid wind.  
He was alone on the street; the sun was just starting to rise, but the temperature lowered as it did and Loki loved it.  
Well, he’d _thought_ he was alone on the street, but he should’ve known better than to assume by now; after all, a thousand years was a long time for anyone.  
He was rather enjoying his peaceful stroll _(searching rather amiably for the man Odin had sent him to kill for breaking some contract or another; some rather terrible mortal who thought raping innocent young women was fun, so really, Loki would enjoy giving this man a most painful death)_ , but it was quite unexpectedly interrupted by a lovely sounding American voice that he more than wanted to see the face of.

“God fucking dammit; fuck the snow. Fuck the cold. Fuck the fucking universe. Just wanted to go for a nice god damn walk and this shit happens.”  
Now, if the snow had not been blowing wildly around like some sort of small blizzard, he might’ve seen the person before they were half a foot away, and even then it had been too late to divert, even for him.  
They both crashed to the ground soon after running face first into each other, though for the other man it was more…face to chest.  

“Oh, my apologies,” Loki said as he moved gracefully to his feet, offering his hand to the man. The man took it and pulled himself to his feet; if he noticed Loki’s enhanced strength, he didn’t say anything. In fact, it was something about this man that seemed different.

“No, my fault. Sorry about that.” Ah, an effortless slip into an English accent…a perfect English accent at that. Interesting.  
While the man was dusting the snow off himself, Loki took the time to examine him.  
He was shorter than Loki by nearly six inches, but he was very attractive; he was well built but not stocky; at least, not from what he could see through the man’s long coat.  
Dark hair was falling out from beneath his hat, just brushing his earlobes. His eyes were downcast, so Loki was unable to see but if he had to guess, he would’ve said chocolate brown. A perfectly trimmed beard covered a strong jaw line and Loki would be lying if he said he didn’t want to cup said jaw.  
He was absolutely gorgeous and Loki wanted, and oft when Loki wanted, he got.  
Most interesting, thought, was the glowing circlet of light emanating from the center of the man’s chest.  
Loki decided he would get to see it without the clothing in the way; the man would let him.  
The man looked up, and yes, chocolate brown eyes _(with slight hints of gold and amber)_ roamed over Loki’s body before the man turned his eyes to Loki’s and smiled brilliantly.  
The dimples were adorable.

“Hello,” Loki said, holding out his hand for a proper shake. “I am Loki Lyesmith. You are…?”

The man took his hand; shook it in a strong grip with slightly calloused fingers and Loki couldn’t help but wonder just what else those fingers could do. “Tony Stark. Or Anthony, if you must.”  
If their fingers lingered within each others for a moment too long…well, Loki always _did_ have a belief in fate _(if the Norn’s were any proof of that)_. It seemed Anthony did too.  

That had been nearly three years ago.  
Since then, he’d discovered many a thing.  
Anthony had had a rather…horrid life _(though, quite honestly, that was only the simplest term Loki could find for it)_.  
When Anthony had been a boy, his father had been both mentally and physically abusive. Anthony had said it mostly consisted of fists and thrown whiskey bottles, with the occasional open-palmed slap as he yelled at the boy.  
When Maria was home _(which the inventor had made a point in stating was rare in and of itself)_ , she took the brunt of the yelling, though she would yell back. It had been rare, however, for her to be home so it was Anthony who took his father’s drunken rage.  
At seventeen, Anthony’s parents _(and his butler and best friend of the time; Jarvis)_ had been killed in a fiery car crash that led to the alcoholism and solitude.  
Nigh a year later, the young inventor had been given his father’s company.  
Such a young man to have been forced upon such a cruel legacy.  
Everyone knows the story of what came to be in Afghanistan, so it need not be told twice.  
A month after his return, and Anthony had had enough; enough of the stress and the complaints and the responsibilities that shouldn’t have been his in the first place.  
He’d said goodbye to the ones he cared enough to say goodbye to _(Pepper, Rhodey and Happy)_ and left for England, starting his life anew.    
More surprising, however, than any of this, Loki found out on the night of the full moon, a year and a half after they’d been together, and nearly thirteen months after Loki had moved in with Anthony.  
Hearing strange noises coming from the lab, he’d rushed down, only to freeze upon seeing a rather large wolf _(the size of a small horse)_ bumping a stool over before curling up in a corner with a pitiful whine; clearly, it had not been prepared to change.  
The wolf was a dark brown _(the same color as Anthony’s hair, he absently noted)_ , with streaks of gold within his fur. His eyes, though, were what really drew attention.  
They were golden, shot through with shards of amber, dark brown ringing the irises.

“ _Oh_ ,” Loki breathed as realization struck. “You’re a lycanthrope.”

Upon hearing Loki’s voice, the wolfs head snapped over to him; Anthony’s ears fell back, his tail tucked and he crawled tentatively forward on his belly, as if he were afraid of Loki’s reaction.  
Loki smiled and dropped to his knees before Anthony, running his fingers through the soft fur.  
“Oh, my dear Anthony; I wish I had known.”  
At which point, Loki shape shifted into a wolf form of his own, teleporting them to some empty field so they could run in peace, which they proceeded to do for the better part of the next twelve hours, before returning home in their human forms, worn out and ultimately satisfied.  
The sex that had ensued after their shower?  
That had been incredible.  
The best Loki had had in _years_.  
Anthony had rolled on top of him, his eyes still golden.

“Last night was a full moon…” he murmured, nibbling on Loki’s bottom lip. “Instincts kick in…” Those sinful lips moved to his throat. “Instincts like possessiveness and domination…” Anthony’s voice was a near inhuman growl and it was the most arousing thing Loki had ever heard. “Wolves mate for life you know…” Sharp teeth scraped over his Adams apple. “Think you can take this much of me?”  
Loki’s answering moan and roll of his hips seemed to be enough of an answer.  
Anthony ripped, legitimately ripped, Loki’s shirt from his body; he was already achingly hard, but seeing the pull and flex of the lycanthropes abdomen and bicep muscles?  
Loki almost came right then.

“Think you can give it?” Loki gasped out, finally having found his voice.

Anthony growled; it was low, inhuman and dark and it was the most beautiful thing Loki had ever heard.

“I can give you _everything_.”

That night _(and every night and day after that),_ Anthony never failed to give him what he'd promised. 

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm...lycanthropy has actually really caught my attention and i love it; sorry, this is my first attempt at it so please don't murder me


End file.
